All I can think of is the emaciated bodies of children on our kitchen table as my mother prescribes what the parent's can't give. More food.
All I can think of is the emaciated bodies of children on our kitchen table as my mother prescribes what the parent's can't give. More food.
Remembering from last year how Haymitch's gifts are often timed to send a message, I make a note to myself. Be friends with Finnick. You'll get food.
No more fear of hunger. A new kind of freedom. But what then ... what? What would my life be like on a daily basis? Most of it has been consumed with the acquisition of food. Take that away and I'm not really sure who I am, what my identity is. The idea scares me some.
What was that you were saying just before the food arrived? Something about me... no competition... best thing that ever happened to you...
© 2020 Inspirational Stories
© 2020 Inspirational Stories